


Fenris Dribble

by Of Elves and Wolves (Only2morrow)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only2morrow/pseuds/Of%20Elves%20and%20Wolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What started out as a small post on Tumblr snowballed in to this monstrosity, written in short segments and posted over the course of one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Her hands began to glow as Hawke channeling the healing magics of the Fade over the gash in Fenris' arm. Though she moved with precision, the elf withdrew his arm before her hands could even touch him. 

“I won't hurt you.” Hawke cooed, her voice soft, a caressing breeze on a summer's day, “Promise.”

With nothing more than a reluctant grunt, Fenris allowed Hawke to take his lyrium addled arm in to her hand, his face twisting in a bit of pain, “I..I do trust you, Hawke.” he finally spoke out, the words just as soft as her glowing hands had been. “It's just...”

“I know.” she replied, a playful smirk dotted her lips, the sort Fenris wished only take between his calloused hands and kiss away in to the wind until she was left only breathless and sighing, “You don't need to say it.”

“No, I think I do.” Fenris scowled looking to the newly healed flesh of his arm, “Hawke I-”


	2. Chapter 2

For a moment, there was nothing more than this. No mages, no masters. Simply a woman and a man, lost in silent understanding and inching closer together.

But, as all things in Hawke’s life, precious moments could never last.

“I don’t mean to interrupt you two, but we’ve got company!” Varric shouted just as Fenris’ hand smoothed over Hawke’s, “And not the good kind!”

“It’s always something, isn’t it?” Hawke sighed with exasperation littered in her voice, her staff beginning to glowing with magical energy, “At this rate, the only rest I’ll get is in the Fade.”

“Trouble does seem to follow you like a dog following it’s master. ” Fenris replied, the barest hints of a smile took to the corners of his lips. He stood readying the large sword on his back. Though the moment seemed lost, “Perhaps we will finish our conversation later, then.”

Hawke paused, a deep and thoughtful furrow situating itself between her thin brow. “I suppose…” she began, still deep in thought even as mercenaries surrounded them. But instead of preparing a spell, or readying herself, the mage turned to Fenris, a playful smile dotting her lips.

“Or, you know, we could finish it now.” Before Fenris could reply, before he could even move, Hawke sealed her lips over his, her arms circling around the tanned skin of his neck.

“Now is good.” Fenris spoke, his voice little more than a growling husk against her skin, “My place, later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”


	3. Chapter 3

Hours later, after the bodies of the mercenaries littered Kirkwall’s stony floor, Hawke arrived at the rundown mansion Fenris called home. She stepped in, the smell of wood burning over a fire filled her nose, her body warming from the heat.

“Fenris?” she called, stripping off the warm cloth of her coat. “You do still have bottles of wine? Right? Because whatever this is I got from Isabela looks more like swill than-”

Strange. Still no answer. Usually Hawke would at least hear a growl of a welcome from the elf.

But still… Nothing.

She gathered her staff once more, her steps becoming quieted as she surveyed the home. Though the fire still roared, his room, the dining room, even the hard benches near the fire were empty.

A fade-touched hand grazed over the long dining table, dust coating her fingers, though her eyes came to the head of the table.

Two places were prepared, cracked plates still warm with food. And yet… Still, there was no Fenris.

“If this is a joke, we are going to need to work on your humor.” Hawke called out, her voice cracking with nerves, “You can come out anytime now.”

But still, there was nothing.

Her eyes came upon the crackling fire, upon the flames a red ribbon burned brightly.

The same ribbon she’d given Fenris before.

All that fear, all the apprehension of lost memories had faded between the two, with the sealing of his lips over hers.

Then why was the ribbon burning?


	4. Chapter 4

Hawke peered around her, eyes coming to the cold tile below. Dusty, as usual. Fenris was not a man known for keeping this place spotless. Not that he was a messy man, but when more important things loomed over their heads, sweeping dust seemed a trivial task.

Hawke knew this. She knew the reason for the dust.

What she did not know, was the reason for the conspicuously clean streak leading out the room.

“This is officially *not* funny.” Hawke muttered to herself as her hands began to glow, “Not even, ‘Isabela throwing a rock at a window’ funny.” She paused stooping down to the tile peering at the clean streak left. The sort that could only be made from dragging something fairly heavy.

How had she not seen this before?

The ribbon, the warm food, the streak of bare tile…

Fenris had been taken.


	5. Chapter 5

Hawke raced out of that dusty mansion as if being chased by the elven Dread Wolf himself. The food was still warm, that would mean only one thing, Fenris had not been taken long.

Had she more time, Hawke may have called Varric, pleaded with Avaline, or brided Isabela for help, but time was not on her side. Whoever was here had enough power to over take Fenris, this was no mere mercenary on the Wounded Coast.

The Veil was thinner, warped, the remnants of magical powers at work.

“You looking for that elf?” a near by beggar called out as Hawke raced by, “The glowin’ one?”

“Yes!” Hawke spoke through fleeting breath, “Broody looking, tattooed. Probably slung over the back of a large man.”

“Aye, I know the one.” the beggar replied slower than Hawke would have liked, “For a few silver, I’ll even tells ya where they went.”

“Or… And go with me here” Hawke growled in return, staring down the beggar, “You tell me where they went, and I don’t get angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry, ask the Arishok.”

“They was speaking about takin’ him to the docks” the beggar replied, “Three of em’. One large man and two of them staff twirlers. Then hitching a ride back to Tevinter.”

So that’s what this was. From the moment Danarius’ cold, bloody body hit the floor of the Hanged Man, Hawke knew Fenris’ would still chased, still be hunted. There was a time when Fenris was little more than Danarius’ wolf. His plaything to be shown off before his magister friends, of course one would covet what Danarius no longer laid claim to.

But now she had a location. She had details. She was the Champion of Kirkwall, and she had man to rescue. And a much needed conversation to finish.

It had taken Hawke longer than she wished to reach the docks. Though she could not be called a religious woman, at least not on the level Sebastian was, she prayed, she bargained with her silent Maker that the Tevinter ship had yet to sail. 

And by either Divine luck, or perhaps the fated luck that swirled around Hawke… She arrived in time. 


	6. Chapter 6

“Keep thrashing, Little Wolf. ” one of the mages spat as Hawke came to those dark and damp docks,“ That just makes breaking you more fun.”

Hawke silently peered out from behind a near by crate. Though she was no rouge, slinking in the shadows, she knew better than to run in to a situation without some fair planning. The two mages remained, one older and one younger while a larger man secured the binds upon Fenris’ hands. 

“All those years Danarius chased you, Little Wolf.” the older mage cooed, a sick laugh escaping him as Fenris thrashed, “And all we had to do was spike your wine. We’re you expecting someone?” the Elder mage laughed yet again, his head almost throwing back in exuberance, “Perhaps a lover? Oh, Little Wolf… Do you not realize you are not a *real* person?” 

Three. That’s how many Hawke needed to take down. That was all. She could do it. Three. 

Fenris thrashed yet again but his bindings would not budge. The large man’s lips broke out in a chuckle as he petted the elf upon his silver hair. 

“We still need to secure his room.” the younger of the two Tevene called out as she moved to the boat, “He is not going to stay still.” 

“I thought the potion would work longer than this.” the elder mage scowled, “Will he be secured for a few moments?”  he asked the mercenary, “This will not take long.”

With the large man’s nod the three ventured inside their modest boat leaving Fenris alone with only the rats for company. 

And Hawke of course. 

As the door to the boat shut, Hawke silently crept behind the chair Fenris was bound to, a smile taking her face as she came upon his pointed ears. 

“And here I thought that maybe you’d changed your mind.” Hawke teased, that playful smirk dotting her lips as her hands deftly moved to untie his binds. Fenris tried to mutter something in return, but unfortunately the ropes binding him extended to his mouth. 

“Oh.. Right.” Hawke laughed in return, a smile taking her as she quickly finished untying his binds, “That should be better.” 

“You came for me.” Fenris rubbed his wrists for a moment, his forest eyes turning to Hawke, “How?” 

“Oh, you know. Threatened a beggar. Did some detective work. The usual.” Hawke replied, the barest hints of a blush taking her cheeks, “I couldn’t let you get away without finishing what we started earli-” 

Before she could finish, before Hawke could speak one more teasing remark from her perfectly candied lips, Fenris took her in to those strong tattooed arms pressing his lips so perfectly against hers. 

“And here she is!” the elder mage spoke, clapping as he walked out of the boat, “Big mistake. But, I’m sure the Champion of Kirkwall will fetch quite the price at the market.”

“How about my house next time?”  Hawke whispered, still close in Fenris’ arms, “We only have to worry about Sandal there.” 

“Deal. ” 


	7. Chapter 7

With the ferocity of the animal he was named for, Fenris set upon the mages while Hawke dealt with the large mercenary. Spells were thrown to every corner of the docks, the Tevene mages holding their weight against Danarius’ wolf. 

But not for very long. 

With the luminescence of the Fade dancing along his lyrium addled skin, Fenris sunk his hand in to the elder mage’s chest ripping his heart right out from his body. 

The younger mage screamed, but with a fire ball, was equally as silenced. Only the mercenary remained, but with out his fellow slavers was an easy task. 

With just as fleeting of feet as Hawke used to arrive to those fated docks, she and Fenris departed with only one place in mind. 

When they came back to that dusty mansion clothing seemed to only be just as binding as those ropes were. Only made to be disguarded the moment they stepped in to Fenris’ mansion. 

“I believe… There was something you wanted to say this morning? ”, the playfully patented smirk dotted Hawke’s lips once more as she sauntered towards him, “I believe it started with a, ‘Hawke… I’” 

“Hawke, I… ” Fenris began, a growl catching in the depths of his throat. His hands hitched upon her bare hips, pulling her closer to his nude form. He sealed his lips over hers, voicing his response through action rather than fleeting words. 

A hand smoothed over her toned back coming to rest behind her neck urging her mouth further open and allowing their tongues to meet in a dance. 

He pulled her towards the bed, the two ignoring the faint smell of dust in favor for the scent of passion that laid between them.

A smile crossed Fenris’ lips as he laid upon that bed, his tanned skin shining in the light of the single candle yet lit. Hawke stalked him, shedding the last peice of obstruction upon her, the blush of her cheeks as her eyes came upon the full length of Fenris. 

Hawke came to the bed, Fenris’ hands caressing every last bit of her form. She was pure bottled passion, and he could not tear himself away from the tap. 

Those lyrium addled hands smoothed over her breasts as she straddled him, her slick wetness more than a welcoming accommodation for his length. 

Her mouth sealed over his once more, their lips conveying that deep, animalistic hunger for more. She lowered her hips upon him, a small tremor taking her form as he settled with in her. 

With an exquisite agony Hawke slowly began her stride, her hips quickening as their need heightened. Fenris rose to meet her, the muscled plane of his chest rising until his lips pressed against the taunt perk of her nipple, taking a perfectly pinked tip between his lips and swirling upon the thing. 

She moaned, sweat breaking over her form she gripped,  holding on to his toned thighs for shelter from this storm. Their pace became wicked, their need too great to simply continue on this terrible path. 

With one last parting of the lips, they reached that blissful peak. Hawke’s form taking herself in tremors and Fenris with little choice other than to join her. 

With shortness of breath, Hawke fell upon him, their chests perfectly synchronized in breath and sweat. 

“Hawke, I love you.” 


End file.
